


guess we never really moved on

by writtenrevolution



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Emotional Infidelity, Explicit Language, F/M, Longing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Song Lyrics, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22169881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenrevolution/pseuds/writtenrevolution
Summary: It’s been two years since they broke up, two years since Thomas has tried to move on. But two years doesn’t compete with the sound of, “Thomas,” on his ex-boyfriend’s lips. Those beautiful, perfect lips. Lips that belonged to an angel.In which Thomas is always going to answer when he calls.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens (mentioned), Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson, Martha Wayles Jefferson/Thomas Jefferson (mentioned)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 91





	guess we never really moved on

**Author's Note:**

> so this song came on the radio and I was in the mood to write something longing, so alas. 
> 
> title and lyrics taken from Hinder's, "Lips of an Angel." It's a bop, so if you haven't heard it, I'd give it a go.

When the phone begins to ring, Thomas is in the living room. He can hear Martha in the kitchen, humming softly under her breath as she washes the dishes from dinner. He sets his laptop aside, grabbing the phone from the coffee table in front of him. It’s late, which means the caller is probably James checking to confirm their plans the next day. 

But when he sees the number on the screen, he freezes. Thomas glances over his shoulder, sees an eclipsed view of his girlfriend’s back in the kitchen, before he turns back to his phone. 

The number is painfully familar, still memorized by heart even after two years, and he is only human. So he swipes his finger across the screen and holds it up to his ear. 

“Darling, why are you calling so late?” He asks, keeping his voice low, “Now really isn’t the best time.”

“Thomas,” Alexander breathes on the other end, his voice wrecked and watery. He’s been crying. Thomas feels his heart constrict in his chest at the subsequent sound of Alex’s shuttered breath. 

“Darling, why are you crying? Is everything okay?” Thomas says on instinct, feeling the need to protect something that wasn’t his to protect anymore.

He hears a hiccuped sob, “I miss you, Thomas."

“I know, Alex. I miss you too.” The words are whispered. It’s a secret, a shameful past-time that he keeps locked away to himself. 

“Why are you whispering?” Alex says in response, his words getting quieter. 

“Martha’s in the next room.” Thomas says, and the reminder of the distance between them - the people between them - is almost too much. It feels cruel to say that, so he adds on something he wishes he could deny, “Sometimes I wish she was you, you know? She’s perfect, everything I could wish for, but she’s still not you.”

“I know. I feel the same way.”

His voice is dry and bitter when he responds, “I guess we never really moved on, huh?”

When Alexander speaks again, the watery quality of his voice is back, “Thomas,”

Hearing his own name on Alexander’s lips makes him suck in a deep breath. It’s been two years since they broke up, two years since Thomas has tried to move on. But two years doesn’t compete with the sound of, “Thomas,” on his ex-boyfriend’s lips. Those beautiful, perfect lips. Lips that belonged to an angel. 

“It’s really good to hear your voice.” He finds himself saying, and he means it. He misses Alexander, like someone would miss a limb, and he doesn’t think they’ll be a time when he doesn’t. 

“It’s good to hear yours too. I missed hearing it.” Alex’s voice sounds a touch more composed, but there is still desperation laced between each word. 

He wants to be strong, he wants to be good and faithful and everything someone like Martha deserves. But it’s Alexander on the other end of the phone, and Alex has always been his greatest weakness. He doesn’t want to give up Martha, he doesn’t want to hurt her or dissapoint her, but hearing Alexander speak makes it almost impossible not to crave him again. His words, his touch, his kiss. 

“It’s funny that you’re calling me tonight.” Thomas says softly, the question hidden between his words. Why is he calling?

“I had a dream about you.” Alexander says slowly, “Do you ever dream of me? Of us?”

“All the time.” Is his response, because he’s never lied to Alex. Never once. Not when they hated each other, not when they got together, and not a single time after they broke up, “Does John know you’re calling me? Is it going to start a fight?”

He hears a sigh come through the phone, “No, he doesn’t know. Does Martha?”

Thomas glances over his shoulder, sees the swishes of Martha’s hips as she loads the dishwasher. It’s now that he can see the white earphone string dangling in front of her chest. 

“She doesn’t have a clue.”

Alex is quiet for a moment, and when he speaks again, his voice is hoarse, “Did you really mean it? That sometimes you wish she was me?”

“Yeah,” He responds, “I love her, I do, but I fucking miss you.”

There is the sharp intake of breath, and he can picture the look on Alex’s face. His brows furrowed, eyes watery, hair a mess from running his fingers through it, his angelic lips pursed. Alex’s voice sounds strained when he responds, “How have we not moved on? Why do I still miss you so much?”

“I don’t know, Alex. I see you everywhere I look, I hear your voice in my head, I still dream of you.” Thomas breathes, “I’m trying to move on, I’ve been trying, but hearing your voice makes me realize that I haven’t gotten there yet. Hearing you say my voice makes me think I might never be able to.”

“I want you to move on, trust me, and I want to move on too. But I can’t say goodbye to you.”

He closes his eyes, listening to Alex’s shaky breath on the other end, “Just hearing you talk makes me wish you were here.”

He can imagine the words forming on Alexander’s lips, his tongue darting out to moisten them, and he can see the angelic smile forming there. God, he misses him. 

“Thomas,”

Thomas wants to be a good boyfriend. He wants to be faithfull. He wants Martha in his life and he never wants to loose her, he never wants to say goodbye to her. 

“Darling, why are you calling so late?” He asks, finally, because the words are forced off his tongue. 

“I still love you.” Alexander says, although the words are whispered, “And I miss you.”

“Alexander,”

“Come over, Thomas.” Alexander pleads through the phone, “Please come over, Thomas.”

And he wants to be good, really he does, but hearing his name on Alexander’s lips is like sin itself. And he is, after all, only human. 

Thomas shouldn’t be surprised. He’s never been able to say no to Alexander. Not with his name on those lips of an angel. 

“Okay, I’m coming.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr plug, as always: writtenrevolution


End file.
